There’s something very wrong.
Damned if the one band I’ve been listening to lately is a Christian Rock band. I find that extra amusing, all things considered. I hate religion. But then, I’m not sure if I’ve touched on religion here. I usually try to avoid it. We’ll leave it at that.
It’s me again, pick up the phone. I hope that you’re at home. I need a friend so don’t pretend. Cause you’re the one I called. I’ll try again if I can.
I’ve been going through some major ups and downs lately. Mostly downs. Spiraling out of control, even. I have so many things running through my head that it is next to impossible to shut down and relax. No calming the beast. No silencing the demons. They’re crawling to the surface, one notched thought at a time. Sometimes real life pain makes the claws dig deeper, a tighter hold. “No one wants you here.” “Let’s go play over here without her.” “Every time you open your mouth you offend me.”
I wonder if I will even be missed. Remember me at my best.
I can’t handle it. I can’t shrug it off. I know no one likes me, or wants me around. Would they notice if I stopped showing up? Would they care? Who are they? Why do I care that anyone cares? I don’t know, but I do. It’s this weird thing. I think it’s actually one of the few semi-normal things about me. I care what other people think. I wish I didn’t, but I think we all do.
Don’t blame yourself when you find out. You know it’s not your fault.
I know I have a few people who care and worry about me. I’m sorry. I wish it was easier for them. But it isn’t. And that’s all my fault. But then, so are most things. It’s easier that way. I want to say that I have so much to look forward to with my day to day, but I think I’d just be trying to make people feel better. So I’ve been doing just that. Putting on a smile, faking normalcy, and telling the world to go fuck the hell off, like I do.
Don’t try so hard… Don’t try so hard… Don’t try so hard.. Don’t try so hard to be happy.
Being told no one wants me around, to go play on another playground away from the cool kids… it hurt. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to defend myself. I was shut down. A panic attack. Anger, frustration, pain, confusion, betrayal, neglect, and a slew of other emotions. No one stood up with or for me. I don’t know why I even had a tiny thought it might happen. But I guess there, up until that point, had been a tiny spark of hope that someone liked me. That I was wanted. That I was even semi-important to people. That I was appreciated. I thought maybe, just maybe, someone might say something. Anything. But. I was wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. So I left. And no one noticed at first. Then one person. That’s it. One person. I know who I am. And I know what I’m capable of. And I know how I have to bury everything so deep. And I don’t know that I can promise not to just walk away and disappear. Maybe it’s time again.
There’s nothing left for me here. To live for. So I have just one last request. Please remember me at my best.
I can’t even begin to describe the feeling in my gut as I think about yesterday. But, while I can fake being fine to others, I can’t fake it to myself. The demons are ever closer to the surface.
There’s something very wrong.